


Potter’s Snake Removal Services

by thecouchsofa



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Crack, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M, Tent Sex, so much crack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-05
Updated: 2018-01-05
Packaged: 2019-02-28 15:09:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13274061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecouchsofa/pseuds/thecouchsofa
Summary: Malfoy has a snake in his tent and asks Harry to come get rid of it.Harry thinks he’s talking about his erection.He is not.





	Potter’s Snake Removal Services

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by a [tumblr post](http://mattandjones.tumblr.com/post/125941280023)
> 
> Any comments/feedback are welcome :)

At nearing one in the morning, Harry was awoken by the ding of his phone, the screen lighting up and throwing the tent into brightness.

Harry blinked his eyes and groggily reached for the phone, knocking over a jar Ron had inexplicably decided to keep next to their beds. It fell with a clanging sound, waking up his friend.

“Wassat?” Ron mumbled, rolling over in his sleeping bag.

“Nothing,” Harry muttered. “Go back to sleep.”

“’Kay.”

Harry rolled his eyes and grabbed the phone, making sure to turn the brightness down.

He raised his eyebrows when he read who had sent the text on the screen.

It was simultaneously both the best and worst news of Harry’s life to find out that for their compulsory eighth year field trip, everyone would be required to carry mobile phones. Worst, because all the bitching and complaining by every eighth year who wasn’t enrolled in Muggle Studies – and thus didn’t have an essay to complete about the experience – made him want to tear his hair out. Best, because the reactions of his magical classmates made him want to invest in a portable Pensieve so he could drag the memories around with him to watch at all hours of the day. Some of Harry’s personal highlights were: Gregory Goyle asking a locked iPhone to please call his mother, and then needing to be comforted when there was no response, Ron pointing a wand at the screen and saying “ _Accio_ Hermione’s phone number”, and Theo Nott throwing his phone into a jar of water he conjured himself, because he wanted to lower the volume on the ringtone, and decided that an _Aguamenti_ charm would be the best way to do it.

But above all, Harry’s favourite moment came when Professor McGonagall told them to pick a phone case out of a box to protect the borrowed phones. Everyone had rushed forward, fighting over the best cases and proclaiming their winnings. Everyone, that was, aside from Pansy Parkinson and Draco Malfoy. They hung back, pretending to yawn and fan their faces or whatever they decided would make them look like they didn’t care. They’d strode up and found that the last two cases were 1: a green fluffy thing with what Harry was fairly certain were short curtain tassels hanging from the border, and 2: a 3D plastic rendition of a what may have once been intended to be a dog, it’s demented face hanging over the top of the phone to watch anyone who passed by, tongue lolling out to flop over the phone screen.

Parkinson practically clawed Malfoy’s arm off to get the green case, throwing the Muggle dog one at him violently when she discovered that it would let out a sharp barking noise whenever it was squeezed.

“I think it’s quite cute,” Millicent Bulstrode said.

The case let out another loud bark.

Malfoy stared at it with a look of dread.

“Are you sure it’s Muggle?” Ron asked. “I mean, Muggle things don’t usually act like that.”

“I believe it is a mechanism inside the case,” Professor McGonagall said. “Now, if you’ll cast your eyes to me I will demonstrate how to best apply the case to the mobile phone.”

Malfoy let out a deranged groan.

It was at that moment that Harry was immensely thankful for both Professor McGonagall’s insistence on phones being taken on the field trip, and to Muggles for inventing the things in the first place.

Thankful, that was, until Malfoy decided to text him at one in the morning.

The text that had lit up his screen just said _Potter_.

Harry sighed, but replied back with _Yes?_

It took a few minutes for Malfoy to reply, clearly still having issues working out the keyboard. _Is this you? Find some way to demonstrate that it is._

_Good Merlin, Malfoy, it’s 1am._

_I shall take that as this not being Potter, then._

_Does the top of your screen say ‘Potter’?_

_No. It says ‘the sodding saviour’._

Harry groaned and rubbed his hands over his eyes.

_Malfoy, would you kindly bugger off and let me sleep in peace._

_Potter, please. It is imperative that you help me._

_What do you want?_

_There’s a snake in my tent. I need you. Please, it’s in my pants._

Harry stared up at the ceiling with wide eyes. A snake in Malfoy’s pants? Good Merlin.

Harry replied with _there’s a snake in your pants?_

_Yes._

_Can you describe the snake?_

A few minutes later, Malfoy replied. _A light colour, a bit darker near the head. Quite nice looking, if I do say so myself. A decent size._

Harry choked on nothing, shooting up to a sitting position in his sleeping bag.

There was no way Malfoy wasn’t talking about his prick. No way.

Harry debated for a while as to how to reply. He shook his head at himself as he tapped on the little keyboard on the screen. _And would you say you have a good knowledge of what is and isn’t a decent snake size?_

_Of course, Potter. Don’t be daft. It looks quite thick, also. I really do need some assistance._

Harry wondered if it was protocol at that point to ask for a photo of the ‘snake’. He could ask, but he doubted Malfoy would know how to operate the phone’s camera. Darn.

He settled for _How thick is it? Can you put your hand around it?_

_It’s moderately thick, maybe three quarters of a wrist? I’m not putting my hand anywhere near it,_ Malfoy replied. _You, however, are fully welcome to try. This is more your area of expertise, after all._

So Malfoy knows he’s gay then. Right, that’ll make things a whole lot easier. At least Harry won’t have to deal with some kind of sexuality crisis on top of Malfoy’s usual bullshit.

_Do you want me to put my hand around it, Malfoy?_ Harry replied. He turned to glance at Ron, who was blessedly still sleeping, and decided to throw shit to the wind and stick his hand down his pants. His cock had started to harden, imagining Malfoy lying in his tent across the campsite touching himself under the covers.

He gripped himself, moving his hand steadily up and down as he waited for Malfoy to reply.

_You can do whatever you bloody well like with it as long as you come and get it._

Malfoy appeared to be getting a little worked up. That was good, Harry quite liked it when Malfoy’s cheeks started to flush and he bit his lip. Flustered Malfoy was Harry’s favourite type of Malfoy. Except for maybe aroused Malfoy. Apparently that was now a category for Harry to choose from.

Harry brought his leg up as far as it could go in the sleeping bag, and leaned the phone against his thigh so he could see the screen. That left one hand free to type, and one free to keep stroking himself without worrying about dropping the phone on his face.

_I could come deal with it…_

_Yes, please._

_Or I could deal with my own._

Harry bit his lip. Yes, it was all working so good. His hand sped up as he thought of Malfoy touching himself as he waited for Harry’s reply. He could picture Malfoy’s cock quite decently, thanks to the description he’d given him. Fair, like the rest of his body, with a darker head. Fuck. Harry wondered if it flushed a more red or purple colour when he got close to coming.

Malfoy replied, _You have a snake in your tent too??_

_Oh, yeah._ Harry typed. _My snake’s probably a little darker than yours, though. I’d really like to see yours._

_Well come bloody see it then_ , Malfoy typed. _I can’t get rid of it on my own._

Harry snorted. What a line. Oh, please, Mr. Potter, my massive erection won’t go away, I need your help. Trust Malfoy to throw out something like that.

_Oh, can’t you?_ Harry asked. _Well, I suppose I’ll have to come and help._

_THANK YOU_ , Malfoy replied. _Hurry up, before Greg wakes up._

Malfoy wanted him to come and help him with his cock when Goyle was still in the tent? Maybe Malfoy was a little more adventurous than Harry had pegged him for.

_You’ve been doing all this with Goyle asleep next to you? Guess we’ll have to keep quiet then._

_Well I didn’t want him to throw a bloody fit, did I? He’d just squeal at me to get rid of it, and we’d be right where we are now, with me asking you to help, and you TAKING YOUR BLOODY TIME. THIS IS A CRISIS, POTTER._

Harry scoffed, rolling his eyes. _Alright, I’m on my way. I’ll gladly come and see to it._

Malfoy just sent back _HURRY UP. It’s moving more now. The twitching is a little unnerving._

So Malfoy’s close, then.

Harry swore, and tripped over his sleeping bag in his haste to get up.

“Wass ‘appening?” Ron groaned.

“My dreams are about to come true,” Harry replied, unzipping the tent. “Don’t wait up.”

“What?” Ron mumbled.

Harry ignored him.

He almost didn’t bother putting on his shoes – after all, Malfoy’s tent was just across the clearing, and he’d no doubt be able to warm them up inside Malfoy’s sleeping bag anyway – but the frost on the ground quickly convinced him otherwise.

Harry adjusted his erection in his pyjama bottoms as he crept across the clearing, bulge tenting the front embarrassingly. Not that Malfoy would find it embarrassing; he’d probably find it attractive. Well, Harry hoped he wasn’t just going there to get Malfoy off and then leave without any reciprocation. That’d be a bit of a hassle, though he still probably wouldn’t turn it down. The memory of jerking Malfoy off would give him enough masturbation material to last the rest of the year, after all.

“Hey,” Harry whispered, popping his head inside Malfoy’s tent. “I’m here to – WHAT THE BLOODY FUCK IS THAT?”

“ _That_ is the snake,” Malfoy hissed.

Malfoy was crouched in his pyjamas near the foot of Goyle’s sleeping bag. On the other side of the tent, a light coloured snake was burrowing into Malfoy’s small trunk. It appeared to be inside of his pants. Oh no. Malfoy’s pants snake was an _actual_ snake.

“So if you could … why are you hard?” Malfoy asked, voice deadpan.

“Uh,” Harry replied.

Malfoy stared at him.

“Uh, well…” Harry covered his only slightly wilted erection with his hand.

“Oh, never mind,” Malfoy muttered. He turned and pointed at the snake. “If you’d be so kind as to tell your serpent friend to _get out of my pants_ that would be brill.”

“Why me?” Harry asked. “Look, I know last year that I –“

“Oh, spare me the saviour speech,” Malfoy said, rolling his eyes. “You’re a Parselmouth, are you not?”

“Oh, uh, right.”

“Potter?”

“Yes?”

“Tell the bloody snake to go away, for the love of Merlin.” Malfoy’s arms were crossed over his chest, glare fixed on Harry.

“Right,” Harry muttered.

He decided it might be best to start teaching Parseltongue lessons at Hogwarts at some point, because all the snake needed was a kind “excuse me, but there are more mice down by the stream” and it was off, slithering out of the tent with a whispered “thanks”.

“Oh, thank Merlin,” Malfoy muttered. “I thought it’d never leave.” He side eyed Harry. “Potter, I don’t mean to alarm you, but you still have an erection.”

Harry groaned, covering his bulge with one hand, and rubbing his forehead with the other.

“Why, pray tell, would you come to my tent with a hard on when I asked you to help me remove a snake?”

Harry groaned again.

“I gave you plenty of time to finish off, if _that’s_ what you’ve spent your night doing, yet you still came here with it.”

Harry stared up at the ceiling of the tent.

“Well?” Malfoy said. “Everyone already thinks you’ve got a prick the size of the Thames, Potter. If anything, you’re dispelling the myth rather than helping it.”

“I thought you meant your cock,” Harry muttered.

“What?” Malfoy asked. “You’ve gone mad, Potter. We’re talking about _your_ cock.”

“I thought the snake was your cock.”

“You thought the snake was my cock,” Malfoy repeated, deadpan. “Really? Because last I checked the snake was over there in my pants, while my actual cock was still attached to my body.”

“Text messages can be easily misconstrued,” Harry replied.

“There was no way to misconstrue my message. I asked you to help remove a snake from my tent. I even described the snake to you, as requested.”

“ _God_. I thought you wanted me to come over here and jerk you off, ok,” Harry cried. Both he and Malfoy froze when Goyle mumbled in his sleep, before turning over and resuming snoring slightly.

“Why would I need your help with my erection?” Malfoy asked. “I am perfectly capable of dealing with it myself.”

“I know that _now_ ,” Harry groaned.

“Potter, you do realised you just readily admitted that you would give me an orgasm if I asked?” Malfoy said.

“Yes, well, that was before.”

“Before you stumbled into my tent with a hard on?”

“Yes.”

“Hmm.” Malfoy regarded him quietly. “I suppose I’ll accept, then.”

“What?”

“I accept your offer.”

“My … it was _your_ offer,” Harry spluttered.

“Potter, do you want to jerk me off or not?” Malfoy sighed.

“Um,” Harry said.

“This offer is only available once,” Malfoy said, moving towards his sleeping bag. “If you reject it, it expires when you walk out of the tent.”

Harry stared, open mouthed as Malfoy reclined on top of his sleeping bag. His pyjamas slipped down on one side enough to reveal one of his hip bones.

“Potter,” Malfoy said sharply. Harry’s eyes jerked up to meet his. “Are you coming or are you going?”

“Definitely coming,” Harry replied. He slipped off his shoes and shuffled on his knees over to Malfoy. The tents were small, so he had to lay half on top of Malfoy to avoid touching either the cold wall of the tent, or the edge of Goyle’s sleeping bag.

“Well?” Malfoy said.

“What?”

“Get on with it.”

“Oh, right.”

Harry slipped his hand under the waistband of Malfoy’s pyjama pants, gripping the base of his hardening cock. He started to move his hand, twisting to hear Malfoy make soft sighing noises. Harry pulled his hand back up to lick it, raising his eyebrows at Malfoy when he grumbled at the lack of contact. The slight slickness helped, but Harry wanted more. Malfoy might know some lubrication spells that could be used for masturbation, but Harry didn’t exactly want to stop and ask him. He debated licking his hand again, before realising there was an easier method.

“Potter, what the fuck are you doing?” Malfoy hissed when Harry removed his hand and started to shuffle his body down. “If you’re bloody leaving after you’ve – oh.”

Harry hid his smirk in Malfoy’s hipbone, gripping his cock again and jerking it slowly. He watched as his hand moved up and down, nudging Malfoy’s foreskin up onto the head on each upstroke. Harry leaned in, licking over the head. It tasted a little musky, but overall not bad. The sound Malfoy made when Harry did it was the farthest thing from bad.

Harry slowed the movement of his hand to get in a better position to lick the head of Malfoy’s cock, sliding his lips over it until the tip was in his mouth. He sucked experimentally, and Malfoy’s hips moved off the bed, a gasping sound coming from his mouth.

“ _God_ , Potter,” Malfoy muttered. His hands were twisted in his sleeping bag, dragging it in towards him. Harry sucked more of Malfoy’s cock into his mouth, laving at the head with his tongue as he did so. Malfoy keened, and shoved his hips upwards. Mercifully, Harry managed to avoid choking. He pulled off and shot a glare at Malfoy, who mumbled a weak apology, patting Harry’s cheek and gently pushing him back towards his cock. Harry put his hands on Malfoy’s hips, pinning them to the ground, and started to move his mouth faster. Malfoy swore and his breathing sped up. Harry could see the muscles in his legs bunching as he fought to stay still.

“You can move a little, if you want,” Harry said, pumping Malfoy’s cock.

“ _God_ ,” Malfoy groaned, weakly. He started to move his hips, pushing the first few inches of his cock in and out of Harry’s mouth. Harry shuffled his hips to get closer, and his forgotten erection brushed against the floor. He moaned, and ground down. The vibrations made Malfoy gasp, and he started to thrust harder.

Harry braced an elbow on the ground and put his palm on Malfoy’s hipbone, giving him room to thrust up but allowing him only a certain range of movement. He slipped his other hand down to his own cock, pushing his pyjamas down and jerking himself in time with Malfoy’s thrusts.

“ _Potter,_ I’m – oh god,” Malfoy moaned. His legs started to shake, and he thrust faster, plunging his cock in and out of Harry’s mouth. Harry’s hand sped up, and he felt himself hurtling towards the edge. Malfoy came with a loud moan, gripping Harry’ shoulder with one hand. The taste of his come triggered Harry’s own orgasm, and he sucked hard as he came, whimpering into Malfoy’s skin as his release spurted onto Malfoy’s sleeping bag.

“Wow,” Harry said.

“Holy shit,” Malfoy replied.

“I fucking hate _both of you_ ,” Goyle yelled.

Malfoy let out what Harry thought was an incredibly feminine scream, and kicked Harry in the shoulder as he attempted to cover himself up with the piece of material that he was lying on.

“Fucking _ow_ ,” Harry cried, rubbing his shoulder and glaring at Malfoy.

Light filled the tent as the zip was yanked down, and a _Lumos_ appeared in the space.

“What is happening in here?” Professor McGonagall asked. “Oh dear. Mr. Potter, would you be so kind as to put some trousers on?”

Harry groaned and pulled his pyjamas up. His leg brushed the drying come on Malfoy’s sleeping bag, and he shot up. He ended up in Malfoy’s lap, which was still only partially covered with the sleeping bag.

“My word,” Professor McGonagall muttered from outside the propped open entrance to the tent.

Harry heard what sounded like a hyena, but was likely Parkinson shrieking with laughter.

“I want to change tents,” Goyle bellowed.

“Potter, I’m going to need you to kill me,” Malfoy muttered. “Or _Obliviate_ me. I’m not too fussed.”

“My come is on your sleeping bag still,” Harry muttered.

“Oh, lovely,” Malfoy replied. “My cock is still out.”

“Brilliant.”

“Mr. Malfoy, if you could please redress. Mr. Potter, I trust you remember your basic cleaning charms?” Professor McGonagall said, her back to them. “All of you, off to bed.”

“Not bloody likely,” Harry heard Seamus mutter.

“ _Off_ ,” McGonagall repeated.

“Someone switch tents with me,” Goyle shrieked again.

McGonagall ignored him. “Mr. Potter, back to your tent, please.”

Harry nodded, casting a _Scourgify_ at Malfoy’s sleeping bag.

“Potter,” Malfoy said as Harry put his shoes on. “If you ever find yourself in need of, uh, snake removal I’d be happy to help.”

Harry snorted. “Thanks, I’ll be sure to take you up on that.”

“Not when I’m bloody next to you, you won’t,” Goyle yelled.

“I’ll take you up on that back at the castle,” Harry amended.

“Oh, Potter?”

“Yes?” Harry said. He turned to glance at Malfoy, but was interrupted by Malfoy’s lips on his. Harry made a soft sound and kissed back, gripping Malfoy’s waist so he wouldn’t fall.

“ _Mr. Potter_ ,” McGonagall yelled. “Unhand Mr. Malfoy and _return to your tent_.”

Harry broke the kiss and smiled at Malfoy. “At the castle, yeah?”

“At the castle,” Malfoy agreed.

Harry didn’t mind the looks that his classmates and McGonagall were giving him, because he could still taste Malfoy’s lips on his.

The next day he changed his contact name in Malfoy’s phone to ‘Potter’s Snake Removal Services’, and Malfoy laughed before kissing him in front of their classmates.

Snake removal, indeed.


End file.
